Owe You A Debt
by JayElem0
Summary: Wilson's gone and there's a new oncologist in town. House wants to torture her until she rolls over and pees herself, but she's not up for it. Very mature, folks. Graphic language and sex. If you don't like that, this is not for you. House/OFC.


Owe You A Debt

By: Jolymi

I'm changing season 5, so far. Felt like doing my own AU thing.

Summary: This is House/OFC, House & Wilson friendship, some angst, lots of sex, (some) kinky sex- post 'Wilson's Heart'

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or get paid, I just have too much time on my hands and an unhealthy obsession with this damn show.

* * *

Wilson was gone.

Not dead, like Amber. Or he might as well be as far as House was concerned. Wilson completely cut him off. Left PPTH, left his apt., left him.

And they were taking applicants for his position.

Which made House angry in a way he couldn't entirely explain.

Maybe he could face the empty office, but not the office with someone new in it.

He'd had an argument with Cuddy that skirted around that very issue. She finally told him to go to hell or be the new head of Oncology.

He just took off, leaving on his motorcycle, going too fast. Being careless.

No matter how many P.I.'s he hired, how many calls, impromptu visits…

Wilson was gone.

* * *

Cuddy hired her.

Patrika N'Dele, formerly of Johns Hopkin's, head of the Oncology department there. Why, one might ask, would a woman at an already prestigious teaching hospital decide to go to another one? In another state? Specifically New Jersey? Even if it is Princeton…

Well, if one asked her, she'd probably tell them to piss off. She was just fun like that.

But, the fact of the matter was, she was divorcing Matumbe N'Dele, Bacteriologist/Virologist, fellow at Johns Hopkin's. He was making her miserable, so she took her 4 weeks off and gave a month's notice. A bitch move, yes, but the Dean of Medicine, her boss, understood, and had her replacement 10 days after she was gone.

They were upset Patrika was leaving and would have preferred to lose Matumbe, but he dug his heels in and Patrika decided a change of venue was what she needed.

Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was not JH. But it was prestigious, and it held one Gregory House, M.D. Which she enjoyed the thought of getting to know.

She found out fairly quickly that the feeling was not mutual.

He had her followed the week before she went to work at PPTH. His P.I. dug up info and trailed her as she found an apartment and generally got ready for the big move.

There was a short conversation over the phone.

"Hey, did you know she was white?" Lucas asked.

House sighed.

"Yes, I was aware that N'Dele was her married name. I'd like to know what her maiden name is."

"I'm working on it…"

"What does she look like, anyway?"

"About 5'4, 5'5. 115, 125 lbs, hard to tell. She's… busty. You know, curvy."

"And?"

"Okay… Blonde, shoulder length hair. Might be natural. Blue eyes. Fair complexion. Manicured and pedicured. Glasses, gold frames. And like I said, busty."

* * *

The first day in her new office, House began sending up patients for oncology consults. Walking patients, sitting in her office, without any tests or scans to indicate they needed to be in her office.

So, the first time, she ran tests and chased her tail.

However, no one could accuse Patrika of being slow. She began referring the patients to the clinic and walked down to House's office to have a talk.

She was tired, irritable…

"So, how many random people are you going to send to my office with some bogus cancer?" she asked sitting down at the table with House's fellows. She smiled and waved at them. "I'm Patrika N'Dele, Head of Oncology. Nice to meet you all."

She looked at House expectantly.

"I'm in the middle of diagnosing-"

She looked at the board and cut him off.

"Alveolar echinococcosis," she said.

"What? Where do you get that?"

"Looks like liver cancer or cirrhosis, but is clearly not in the tests. Patient presents with long cysts, abdominal pain, weakness, weight loss… Has been to Europe, specifically Italy. Contact with red foxes… Yeah, I stand by my diagnosis," Patrika said, smiling at him.

"And how do you know all this?" House asked, smug grin on his face.

"I read his history, talked to the patient and googled it."

House looked at his fellows.

"Run the blood test," House snapped. The group jumped, with the exception of Foreman, who stood and calmly walked out of the room.

"In fairness, you've just gotten started, so, you would have found it soon enough."

He stared at her.

"So, you going to keep it up, or what?" she asked, suddenly tired.

"How do you know it was me?"

"Patients described you. I'm smart, I put two and two together."

"Yeah, I hear…"

"Should I give you my CV or do you know it by heart?"

House sat at the table.

"You decided to come down here and confront me instead of running to Cuddy? I'm mildly impressed."

Patrika blew out her breath.

"How many games do I have to play with you before you let up? A round number please."

House smiled, with the usual wickedness.

"That takes the fun out of it…"

"I know that your friend quit and I am now doing his job."

She saw his face harden.

"But… I am not your bitch. If you would like to play, sure, I can play. But I'd prefer to do my job, go home and generally enjoy my life. Something you clearly need to work on."

"You've had a couple of conversations with Cuddy and you think you have me all figured out?" House asked, deceptively mild.

She stood up and headed to the door, once there, she turned and faced him.

"Haven't even scratched the surface," she replied, and left.

* * *

Patrika was in the commissary when House's fellows descended upon her, politely.

"Can we sit with you," the one with the dark brown skin asked.

"I suppose. Unless you're here on an information gathering mission for House, then you can take off."

The man smiled and motioned for the others to sit.

"I'm Eric Foreman," he said, and then introduced the rest. "Taub, Kutner, 13."

Patrika was confused, but chose to remain silent.

"Nice to meet you," was all she said.

They nodded to her.

"How did you know-"

"About your patient?" she finished for him.

"Yeah," Foreman replied.

"I saw it back at Hopkin's. Well, not personally, but it was there."

"What did you tell House?" Kutner asked.

"What did he say?" Patrika responded suspiciously.

"He said that you were a witch with ESP."

Patrika laughed out loud.

"Not the response I was expecting," Foreman said, giving her a once over.

"Too bad," she said, continuing to laugh.

"House knows all about you," 13 said, "He's got a private investigator-"

"I'm aware," Patrika said and ate a forkful of tuna salad.

More looks of shock.

"I don't care. He can't dig up anything on me that I wouldn't want anyone to know anyway."

"Then tell us about yourself," Foreman said.

"I'm eating," she said, immediately.

"The short version, then."

She took a deep breath.

"Born in Arcadia, North Carolina, very rural, very podunk. Too smart for my own good, early to med school, early to graduate. Got involved in oncology due to a family history. Got married. Soon to be divorced. Recently employed here. To be continued."

She went back to eating her tuna salad.

"Well, it was nice to meet you," Taub said, standing up and leaving. The others said good bye and followed suit. Until it was just Patrika and Foreman at the table.

"Something else? Or am I so pretty that you just can't leave?" she asked.

Foreman smiled.

"He has no idea what he's getting into, does he?"

Patrika smiled back.

"Meh."

* * *

After talking to House, Patrika stopped getting patients sent directly to her office. But she did start getting an inordinate amount of requests for oncology consults from House's office. As many as 10 to 12 a day.

She decided another visit was in order.

She took the files and headed out.

"Hi, Dr. House," she said, standing by the table with House's Fellows. "Hi, again."

She waved at the team and winked at Foreman.

"Dr. N'Dele, can I help you?" House asked sweetly.

"I brought all the consults down to go over with you, since it was so important I get them."

House blinked.

"And I have decided that I'm going to pass my patients on to others in the department so that I can be here with you everyday. I'm dedicated like that."

The team blinked.

"I guess…" she said, beginning to look tearful, "I guess… it's because I need… to be with you…"

Then she laughed, tossed the files on the table and walked out.

"I like your tank top," House said, walking into Patrika's office. Not that he thought of it as her office.

"It's called a camisole," she replied, not looking away from the computer.

"Whatever it's called, shows off your rack impressively…"

"That _is _why I wore it," she said, still not looking at him.

He sat in the chair next to her desk.

"Must be nice for the guys, and I suppose the lesbians, you treat."

"If they're into breasts."

"Who isn't?" he replied.

"Me. I'm more of a leg woman," she said, looking down at his right leg.

"Nice," he said, easing back, making himself comfortable.

"Thanks."

"So, I hear you're smart…"

Patrika continued to tap away at the keyboard.

"Some have said."

"Finished pre-med when you were 18. Med school in 3 years. Then you decided on Oncology."

"You read my CV, good, good," she said.

She still, at this point, has not looked at House's face. And it is beginning to irritate him.

"Isn't it depressing?"

"Haven't you already asked your oncologist friend this?"

"I'm looking for a new perspective," he smirked.

"Yes, it is terribly depressing. I am on multiple mood stabilizers and anti-depressants. Can you prescribe me some valium?" she said and smiled at the computer.

"Clonopin, Ativan, Xanax? Anything else you need?"

"I'd say Vicodin, but I don't see you giving that up."

"Not any time soon."

He continued to sit by her. And when she wouldn't engage him, he pulled out his PSP.

Patrika continued to ignore him and finish up her paperwork.

Once done, she turned to him.

"Anything else, Dr. House?"

"I got an email from another Dr. N'Dele," House said. This time, _he _didn't look up.

She did an amazing job not showing emotion.

"Yes?"

"Well, in fact, I sent him the email. His was a reply."

"So, you wanted to let me know you're corresponding with my very soon to be ex husband?"

"He has many interesting things to say."

"I'm not sure about that. I've not found him that interesting in the recent past."

House continued to play the game.

"He sent me lists… Favorite foods, clothes, perfume… sexual positions."

"Assuming I believe this… Why?"

"He thinks he's selling you off to a rich doctor so he won't have to pay you any alimony."

Patrika sighed.

"He's such an ass…"

"I thought so, too. But the information was gratifying. You know, spank bank-wise."

"Hmm."

"Is Clinique Happy really your favorite perfume? I see you as more of an Obsession woman."

She just looked at him. She stopped believing him.

"And my favorite sexual position is…" she queried.

He met her eyes.

"Cow-girl style," he replied.

It was a decent guess, but is was not, in fact, her favorite sexual position.

"Hmm."

He blinked.

"You're not enraged that he would share this kind of personal information with a complete stranger? You don't feel like calling him and telling him off?"

She smiled broadly.

"He could tell you my panty size and what color thong I favor on a particular day."

"Do tell," he said, with a little lick of his lips.

She leaned over, practically by his ear.

"Dream on," she said, sitting back.

* * *

The game went on for almost 6 months. And Patrika had to admit she was having fun. Her job was indeed depressing at times. And the hijinks with House lightened her mood.

Sure, he was annoying, irritating, frustrating, all those nice adjectives… But, it made her more determined to get him right back.

The fun unfortunately came to an end on the day Patrika had to tell 5 patients their various cancers were terminal.

Add to that, House sent for a consult, a real one this time. And indeed, this patient had cancer as well. End stage lymphoma.

She walked the result down to him herself.

She pushed the door open and tossed the file on the table.

"Dead in 3 months," she said, then turned and left.

"Thong wedged up there today?" House snarked.

"Fuck off, House," she snarled.

House was a little shocked, because he'd not known Patrika to use that kind of language, well, ever.

He waved the fellows off.

"Quittin' time, folks. Go grab yourself a Coke and a smile," he said.

And they left.

Foreman almost stayed, but House quirked up an eyebrow and he followed the others out.

"It's 9:30, Dr. N'Dele. Go home."

"6, including yours. 6 terminal patients today. All of whom will be dead in less than 4 months."

"You picked the depressing job."

"Up yours. You could be less smug about it."

"I could."

More sighing.

"What do you do when your day takes a big fucking shit on you?"

He looked at her.

"Nice imagery… And to answer your question, I drink and watch porn."

She smiled.

"I don't have either."

"Well, since you made it 6 months, I'll buy you a drink. But you'll have to get your own porn."

"I guess."

They drank. He bought her more than one drink. They got shit faced.

Patrika remembered a cab, which had been an excellent idea.

She woke up the next day confused.

"This isn't my bedroom…"

She heard House's gruff voice.

"What was your first clue?"

"This wall is institutional beige. Mine is a nice robin's egg blue with a cloud ceiling."

"Tasteful," he replied.

She rolled away from the wall, as she was laying on the inside.

"I like blue…" she said, looking at his profile.

Then she looked down at herself. Clothes still on. Good. She looked for hickeys or love bites, everywhere.

"You won't find anything. I'm discreet like that. And I put your clothes on you after we were done."

"That was thoughtful of you."

"It was good," he said, smiling.

"I'm sure."

"You sound doubtful."

"No, no, never."

"I'm telling you. You mounted me like I was a wild stallion, I was rode hard and put away wet."

"Graphic."

"I thought so."

"We didn't even kiss, did we?" she said.

"No."

"Not even a feel up?"

"Not that I can remember," he said.

"Why not?"

He turned his head, slowly, and looked at her.

"I recall… I mean I don't have perfect recall… But I recall flirting. You flirted, I flirted back."

He just smiled and continued to look at her.

"And then we… ended up here?"

"Cab fare was more expensive back to your place."

"Ahh."

"Be glad I didn't make you sleep on the couch."

"Thanks," she said, wryly. "You going to tell me why there wasn't naked sweatiness?"

"Too drunk?" he said.

"Or I'm not your type."

He smiled.

"Could be."

"Okay, I have to go. My head is throbbing. I am going to find your bathroom, then your kitchen and then call a cab."

She didn't move.

"Get me something while you're in there," he said.

Patrika scooted to the end of the bed and sat there. Then she lurched towards the bathroom. She looked at the mess that was her make-up and hair and attempted to tame it. She rubbed her teeth with toothpaste on her finger and gargled. She took a paper cup and downed some water and a few ibuprofen from his medicine cabinet.

Patrika looked at the shower, but decided against it. Might be tempting fate. When she felt a little more human she returned to the bedroom and fell back onto the bed. As she moved up and pulled the flat pillow under her head, he spoke again.

"You didn't make it to the kitchen."

"Didn't think I could make it all in one trip," she replied.

"Ahh."

"House."

He grunted.

"I'm about to sexually harass you."

"We're not at work…"

Patrika slid a hand up his side, over his nipple, covered by a thin t-shirt.

"I figure, before I leave here, I'm going to get to at least first base."

"That is, technically, second base. Over the clothes action."

"I'm fast… Ask anyone."

And she kissed him. It started slowly, just lips. Then he was kissing her back. And she was sucking on his lower lip and darting her tongue in and out of his mouth. He pulled her half on top of him, so they were chest to chest. Her nipples hardened and he could feel it, even through the fabric of their clothes.

It slowly grew more intense from there. His hands tangled in her hair as she gripped his shoulders. She moved over him, straddling his thighs.

He grunted in approval.

Kissing was nice, but Patrika hadn't had sex in over a year. And House was being good, he was being nice to her.

He had, in fact, been nice to her for the last 5 months. Their game had been playful, not derogatory. Just a steady flow of one-upmanship.

Now, she starting kissing up his jaw to his ear, sucking the lobe. He started breathing a bit more rapidly, and it egged her on. She moved down his neck, his collarbone.

He took her by the shoulders and moved her until they were face to face again.

"Definitely more than first base."

"Shut up, House," she said and kissed him again. After a few more breathless minutes, she pulled back. "I haven't grabbed anything yet."

"I'm not stopping you."

His hands moved from her shoulders down her body until he was cupping her ass.

"Now you're getting more action than me…"

He rolled them over until he was on top.

"By all means…"

Her hands moved. She gripped his ass, pressing her nails in ever so slightly into the fabric of his boxer briefs.

"Nice," he hissed, kissing her again.

This time she slid her hand under the material and gripped flesh, digging her nails in enough to leave crescent shaped marks in the flesh.

House was balanced on his good leg, hands on her breasts, kissing her thoroughly. Patrika gasped when he reached under her clothes and started rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Then his lips moved down, pushing the fabric up, until he was licking and sucking fervently, and she was gasping beneath him, grinding herself against his growing erection.

She mentally pulled back a little, though she continued to move under him.

'I shouldn't… We shouldn't…'

And he moved further down.

She felt him opening her pants. He paused to look at her. She supposed to see if she would stop him.

"If this gets weird at work, I'm not quitting this job."

He smiled at her.

"But I want to fuck. Right now."

"Good to hear," he replied.

House returned to her pants, unzipped, pushed them down her legs and off onto the floor. He slid the cami over her head until she was laying in her bra and panties beneath him.

Patrika grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and tugged, he was helpful and it was off quick.

He didn't waste time getting the under things off, and he was back on her. Patrika wanted to do more than just lay there. She was actually quite surprised he hadn't told her he wanted head first. From what she understood, he was a taker, more than a giver, in bed.

But she was laid out under him, and he was kissing her lips, cheeks, jaw. Sucking and licking down her neck to the hollow of her throat. He didn't go straight for her nipples. He licked slowly, with the flat of his tongue, taking mouthfuls and pressing his teeth ever so slightly to her skin. He worked her nipples with his fingertips, wetting them with his tongue.

She hissed when he pulled her nipples into his mouth, her cunt throbbing. She threw caution to the wind and pulled him back up and then pushed him onto his back. She blazed a quick trail down his body, pulling the boxer briefs off in a smooth motion, assisted by House lifting up.

She barely paused to look at his leg, but she saw a look in his eye as if he expected her to react negatively. She didn't, she bent to kiss his thighs.

He put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not saying I don't want you to, because I would fucking love it. But I might not last that long if you do."

"Let me be blunt, House. When this is over I want to be able to place at least one point each in the orgasm tally. I don't want all the sweating and panting to come to nothing for me."

"I hear and understand. Now if you will just lay your sweet, round ass back on the bed, I'll get started."

She sighed.

"Don't bitch later that you didn't get head…"

"Shut up, Patrika," he said, smiling as he slid down her body.

He feasted on her. Sucking and licking at her outer lips, then parting her with two fingers and darted his tongue inside, worrying the little nub until it was throbbing in time with her heart.

Patrika panted, she gasped, trying to get her breath back. Trying not to clench her thighs too tightly around his head.

"Yes…"

"Say Greg," he said, pausing. "I don't want you to come screaming my last name."

"Shut up and finish and we'll see what happens," she said, still attempting to catch her breath.

His head dipped back down. He returned to his previous ministrations, adding two fingers inside her, hand turned palm up, looking for her spot. He found it, and the combination of things he was doing to her put her over the edge.

"Fuck yes, Greg!" she yelled, and white lights exploded behind her eyes. Her body pulsating from her pussy outward. "Aah, God, fuck, Greg!"

He stopped gently and stood.

She didn't notice he was gone until he was back. She thought she'd heard water running and a minute or so later he was on top of her again. She took him by the face and kissed him frantically.

"That was… fucking amazing."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling smugly.

He opened the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a condom.

"You ready?"

She gave him a look.

"I was ready before we got my clothes off…"

House slid the condom on and locked lips with her again. His teeth grazed down her neck, then worried her nipples until she was aching.

"Fuck me now," she panted.

"God, yes," he hissed.

He slid inside her with no trouble, pushing her knees up, bracing on his good leg.

"Might be more comfortable… if I try that cow-girl style…"

House rolled until she was on top. The sensation changed, and she took a moment to feel it. Then she moved. A slow grind, moving her hips up and in circles, bracing her hands on his chest, tightening her inner muscles.

He groaned, fingers digging into her ass, moving her faster.

"Fuck," he swore, closing his eyes, "Going fast."

"I got mine," she said, breathlessly, "Now, you're getting yours."

He was close, and he reached between them, rubbing her clit.

She moaned, redoubling her efforts.

He ached, and felt his balls tighten.

"Come on, Patrika, come one more time…"

"I'm going to… if you would shut the fuck up…"

"I love it… when you talk dirty…"

"Oh, fuck, Greg, fuck, fuck, fuck…" she yelled as she came and felt him do the same, hands on her hips, thrusting wildly.

"Yes," he hissed, "Fuck, yes…"

She rested on top of him, and when she could think again, she gently disengaged and rolled onto her side.

"And you said cow-girl style wasn't your favorite," he said as she collapsed on the bed next to him.

"I just had to… re-evaluate it's good points…"

* * *

There was a call in the night. Patrika and House had been mid-orgasm when the phone rang. They ignored it, of course, until the machine picked up.

"Gregory… It's your father…"

House grimaced and pulled away from her.

"Gregory… If you're there, pick up. It's… It's about your mother."

He hopped off the bed and limped as fast as he could to the phone.

"Yeah?"

She could read his face.

His mother was dead.

He dropped the phone. The grief-stricken look on his face, the way his jaw slackened, he could barely stand.

Patrika went to him and he tried to push her away. She persisted, and picked up the phone.

"Mr. House? I'm Patrika N'Dele, a colleague of your son's. He's… I'll take whatever information you need to give him."

She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and took down the information.

* * *

Blythe House had wished to be buried in Princeton, near her son. John House didn't comment, in front of anyone, as far as Patrika knew.

The funeral was two days later, closed casket, no memorial service afterward. Apparently that was what she wanted.

Patrika stood next to House by his mother's grave. He was silent, eyes red, but otherwise dry. She could feel the grief emanating from him like heat.

She took in the crowd. Some military colleagues of John House's, Blythe's lifelong best friend, Eliza Darrow, all of House's staff, Dr. Cuddy, a few other's from PPTH, and when she turned her head she saw a tall, dark-haired man in the back of the group.

'Wilson,' she thought.

House just watched the casket as it was lowered into the ground. And before she could catch herself, Patrika felt overwhelmed by Greg's feelings. She started to cry. Quietly at first, but with increasing suffering.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he pulled her to his chest.

"Someone has to do it," he said gruffly.

She buried her face in his coat, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. She felt like every bad thing in her heart and mind was trying to escape through her body.

"She loved you so much," House's father said to him, moving closer.

"I know."

"Then why is she the one doing the crying?" Mr. House asked indignantly.

"She's looking out for me."

"I don't know what the hell that means…"

Patrika looked up at him and he was silent.

The job was done and the dirt was being shoveled into the grave.

Cuddy waved the rest of the hospital staff away, and followed behind them. When she looked back, only Mr. House, Ms. Darrow, House and Patrika were there. Then she noticed Wilson moving forward.

She bit her lip, deciding if she should do or say anything. Then she shook her head, turned and left.

Wilson stood behind House. Patrika was sure House knew, but he didn't turn around. She did, though, and shook her head at him. He nodded morosely, and left.

House stood there until the last of the earth was placed on his mother's grave.

* * *

Not long after that, Wilson called House.

Patrika hadn't been there for the call, but she had enjoyed the angry sex that followed it.

There had been bouts of angry sex before that, House trying to work through his pain. He wouldn't talk, he'd just tear her clothes off the minute she was through the door. He didn't bitch about replacing items afterwards either, which was odd.

She'd just rolled off of him, gasping.

"How much Viagra did you take?" she said, when she got her breath.

"Enough," he said, rolling on his side, groping her breasts.

He was less crabby for a while after an orgasm, then the pain would set back in and he'd be miserable again.

"Well, unless some other lucky woman is going to be here tonight, Rosie Palms and her sisters are going to have to take over."

She stood up and pulled on her panties.

"Where are you going?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm running away in my underwear," she replied, searching the floor for her hair tie. House was constantly pulling them out and flinging them somewhere.

"Might be a bit cold," he said, rolling on his side and pulling up the blanket.

"I'm going to the kitchen. You attacked me before I got food in my system. I'm suffering from low blood sugar…"

"Bring me something, too," he called to her as she left.

She was walking through the apartment in her panties when there was a knock on the door.

"Shit," she whispered and bolted back to the bedroom.

"Hey, where's the food?" he said, and she picked up her bra and threw it at him.

"There is someone at the door."

House got up, pulled on a robe and went to the door.

Patrika pulled on one of House's t-shirts and a pair of boxers and tried to decide what to do.

Then she heard the sounds of a fight.

"You left… cut me off," House said, raising his voice. "I mean… You saw Cuddy and Cameron and even fucking Chase, but not me!"

She caught Wilson's eye as he looked over House's shoulder at her in the doorway to the bedroom.

"This isn't a good time," House clipped out.

"You seeing other oncologists?" Wilson said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I know you think I fucked up our friendship and I probably did. But you wouldn't give me the chance to fix it."

"Greg," Patrika said.

He turned and looked daggers at her.

She walked into the front room and extended her hand.

"Patrika N'Dele," she said, as she shook hands with the other man.

"I know. James Wilson," he replied.

"Oh, I know," she said, smiling.

"You need to go. I'm busy," House said, taking hold of Patrika.

She gritted her teeth, but didn't call him on the Neanderthal move.

"Greg."

"What?"

Her brows went up and she pressed her lips together.

"Maybe it's time to make up."

"You should-" he started angrily.

"Don't you fucking take that tone with me Greg House. I don't need your shit. You've been growling like a fucking bear for the last three weeks and while it is occasionally… fruitful, you're not doing yourself any favors."

He stood there a second, eyes darkening dangerously.

"But maybe not this minute," she said, turning to Wilson. "I'll do the best I can," she whispered to him as she pushed him towards the door. "Some shit will occur right now that none of us want to see. He'll call you."

"The fuck I will! You went a year! A fucking year with out calling me and then you show up out of no where!"

"Bye, Dr. Wilson-"

"Call me James," he said as he headed out the door.

"Will do," she said, shutting the door.

She took a deep breath.

"Before you freak out-"

"Why did you tell him that I'd call him?"

Patrika pulled the t-shirt over her head and slid the boxers off. She stood there for a second, in just her panties.

He shut up.

She walked back to the bedroom.

"This conversation is not over," he said, following behind her.

* * *

"I'm glad you took my call," Wilson said, sitting down at the table in the café.

"If Greg found out, he'd be very upset," she said quietly, "So, naturally, I had to do it."

They both smiled.

"How is he?"

"Angry, irritable, cranky, bed-tempered, petulant…"

"So, normal old House…"

She stopped smiling.

"Not really. Worse than usual."

Wilson just looked at her expectantly.

"What do you expect me to say?" she asked. "What do you want?"

"I think I…"

"You miss him, no matter what happened. You needed space after…" she stopped.

"After my girlfriend, Amber, died."

They were quiet for a while.

"After House's mother died… I thought of him feeling like I did. But he was never going to show it… He'd just-" James didn't know what else to say.

"Implode?"

He nodded his head.

"Yes."

"He's not alone."

Wilson smiled at her.

"I saw you at the funeral. You cried for him."

"He said someone had to do it."

"Sounds like something he'd say," he replied. "Do you love him?"

"It's possible. I know we're a lot alike, which is good and bad. I think I'm… you. In the way Amber was like House."

Wilson looked stunned.

"He talked to you about it?"

"No, everyone else has, though."

"You have to love working at a hospital," he said, shaking his head.

"You have to or you'd go insane," she laughed.

She continued.

"I hear that Amber was very much like House but… different in that she encouraged you to do more for yourself."

"You talked to Cuddy…"

"When she realized House and I were in a relationship, she thought it was fair for me to know some things he probably wouldn't tell me. And hasn't. So, I act like I don't know. It's working so far."

"And?"

"I'm like you with a touch of cruelty."

"Oh," he said, simply.

"Just enough to take the bullshit he tosses at me and not get hurt. But you got hurt. You started letting it get to you, believing he should change."

"He should," Wilson replied softly.

"I have no doubt. But he may never. He doesn't really believe it's possible."

"Does he seem different to you?"

She smiled at Wilson.

"I could regale you with the stories of the fun and games we played for the first few months. He's a tricky fucker, thinks outside the box."

Wilson just smiled back.

"But, when I didn't have a nervous breakdown or go running to Cuddy, things changed. He became more playful, less snide. He played the game to shock me, to see if I'd laugh, not for blood. It was fun."

"How many times did you kick his cane out from under him?" Wilson asked, grinning widely.

"Just the once, after he posted a photo-shopped picture of me in the staff lounge. My face on a much less clothed model."

"And you didn't file a complaint?"

"I kicked his cane up from under him, caught him before he fell and smiled. I showed him what I could do if I was provoked. That was in the days we were playing for blood. And after that, the game got fun."

"I don't think I ever thought his games were fun…"

"You have to detach yourself from your pride, and your conscience."

"Then you play it better than I could."

"You could try. Especially with me here, taking the bulk of it."

He cocked his head to the side.

"Why would you do that?"

"He's empty. Even when I try to fill him… He's missing part of himself. I'm guessing that's you."

Wilson shook his head.

"He won't talk to me."

"In fairness, you did stop talking to him for a year."

"I did."

"How can you make it better?" she asked.

"Sometimes I don't think I should have to."

"Have you punished him enough?"

Wilson didn't answer.

"Have you suffered enough?" she continued.

"You make it sound like… we… were in love…"

She smiled.

"When you've been friends that long, you might as well be married."

He didn't smile back.

"Were you?" Patrika asked, suddenly.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his face.

"Or is that you lived with the feelings so long that their absence felt like a cure?"

"Minor in Psych?"

"Doesn't every oncologist? If they don't, they should," she said.

"Why are you with House?"

She thought a minute.

"He's brilliant, funny, passionate… He makes me crazy. He challenges me constantly, about everything. And quite frankly, he's a monster in bed."

Wilson blushed.

"He is also all the other things I told you earlier. You don't care for some for their virtues, you do it despite their faults.""Then you must love House…"

She shrugged.

"Who can say?"

"I want to be… back in his life. I want him back in mine."

"You want your old job back, too?"

He smiled.

"If I say yes?"

"Then I say, tough shit, buddy. It's mine now."

She laughed.

"I can see why he hangs out with you."

She raised an eyebrow.

Wilson blushed again.

"It's more than that, I'm sure."

"Could be…" she replied.

"So, can I count on your help?"

"You had me when you asked him if he was seeing other oncologists."

* * *

"You went to lunch with Wilson," House shouted as he pushed the door to her office open.

"He was paying, who was I to say no?" she said reasonably.

House boiled over.

"He's the fucking enemy! You had lunch with-"

"No, he's not. He is your dear, old friend that you have recently been on the outs with. You care very deeply for him, or you wouldn't be in here shouting at me."

"Stop sitting there, being so fucking calm!"

"You want me to scream back, so you can have a reason to storm out and not see me tonight? Because you're paying for this meal and I am not missing out," she replied, smiling.

"You went behind my back-"

"If I'd told you, you would have demanded I not see him. So, I kept it to myself, not that's it's any of your business who I have lunch with…"

She was baiting him, and she knew it was dangerous, but she had to see what he'd do. It would get much worse from here, if she was intent on helping Wilson.

"You're mine!" he said, regretting it the second it came out of his mouth.

"No, no I'm not."

He blustered.

"Have you ever used the possessive term for a woman? Or is it just for me?"

He didn't answer.

She stood and advanced on him.

"I'm not yours, I am my own. I sub-lease parts of myself to you on a frequent basis, but you do not own me."

She moved closer, pressing against him. Enflame then diffuse. She'd have taken her clothes off if they weren't at work. Sex pre-occupied him, distracted him when he was upset. She'd used it more than once.

He stood there stock still, white knuckling his cane.

Patrika pulled her sweater off, revealing the blue camisole underneath. A fitted, spaghetti-strap, blue cami that she adjusted so he could look down at her cleavage.

"You're a tricky bitch."

"Yes, and if you call me a bitch again without the benefit of orgasm, I'll remove your testes," she said, taking his hand and running it up her ribcage up to her breast, using his hand to massage there.

"So, you're going to sit with your hand in my lap while I talk to Wilson?"

"You willing to talk to him?"

He raised an eyebrow and gave her an evil look.

"If you're willing to talk, I'll manually pleasure you afterwards," she said.

"During."

"If you can keep some air of civility while talking to your best friend-"

He gave her an angry look.

"-that you are currently angry as hell at, I will do that thing you've been wanting, directly afterward."

"I can pay for that thing…" he threw out there, to see what she'd say.

"You can pay for many of the things we do, but I think we both know you want me to do it. Not some random woman or a hooker."

He looked surprised.

"Wilson told you about hookers?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"No, you just did, asshat."

* * *

He talked to Wilson.

Well, Wilson talked. House gripped his glass of scotch and made snide remarks.

Patrika sat at the table. Though she'd have been happy to wait at House's apartment, she knew that was not reasonable. They needed a buffer. Cuddy had volunteered after Patrika told her about the 'casual drink', but House declined. No reason given, but Patrika could figure it out.

Cuddy saw Wilson after Wilson had stopped seeing House. He was holding a grudge, pure and simple.

Wilson was quiet and thorough in explaining his reasoning.

The pain of Amber's loss, the thought that House played any part in it, how he would go on without her, how he would sink back into what was becoming, to him, a toxic relationship.

House called him a woman and ordered another drink.

Patrika sighed.

It went downhill from there.

House slammed the door open and threw his cane across the room.

"Fucking Wilson," he said, limping towards the alcohol.

"He said some valid things…"

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped.

"Nope, probably not. You have an over-developed grudge gland. You need to think about what James said."

"'James'?" he snarled. "You fucking him, too?"

Patrika crossed the room and knocked the glass out of his hand. It flew about 6 feet and then smashed on the hard wood floor.

"No, Gregory, I am not fucking James."

She grabbed him and pulled him towards the bedroom. Once inside, she started stripping his clothes off; jacket, button down, t-shirt. She pushed him onto the bed, pulled his shoes and socks off and unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of the loops, that got tossed across the room. House lifted his hips and she pulled everything off at once; jeans and boxers.

He tried to sit up and she pushed him back on the bed, mouth going to his balls, the other hand on his cock, pumping. She sucked one into her mouth gently, then licked him from the base of his cock to his tip. She sucked him into his mouth with one gulp.

House almost came off the bed, shouting.

"Fuck, woman!"

She pushed him back down on the bed and continued the suction, swirling her tongue around the tip, cupping his balls. She paused, wet her hand with her tongue and worked him slowly, then added her mouth to the tip of his cock.

House groaned, twining his fingers in her hair.

She continued to work on him, hand and mouth and tongue, a finger on his perineum.

He gasped and had to stop himself from thrusting into her mouth.

House came shortly after that, calling her name and swearing.

"What the hell?" he said, panting, when she returned from the bathroom.

"I wanted you in a better mood for that thing you wanted," she replied and began stripping for him.

Not an intricate tease, but a slow burn. Sweater sliding down her arms, hands to the zip of her pants, she let them fall off. She unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it off and then slid her bra straps down.

She turned around and sat on the bed in front of him.

"Unhook me, please."

His hands went to her shoulders and then slid down her back and unhooked her bra. She stood, still facing away from him.

"Panties?" she said, sweetly.

He ran his hands over her hips and then hooked his fingers under the fabric, moving the panties down her legs. She leaned over in front of him, reaching for them and tossing them with the rest of her clothes.

"You have a fine ass, Dr. N'Dele," House said, smiling.

"You want it?"

She pulled the lube out of his drawer.

His eyes went wide.

"I didn't think you meant it…"

"Because everyone lies?"

"Women don't usually…"

"Well," she said, "let's see."

"I can't be on my knees that long," he quipped.

"You don't have to," she replied. "Sit at the head of the bed."

He moved where she said.

She tossed a condom at him.

"Put it on."

He looked amused, but did it.

She poured some lubricant into her hand. She sat at the other end of the bed and started playing with herself.

"Shouldn't I be doing that?" House asked, still smiling.

"Shh," she said, as she slipped two fingers inside her pussy, tossing her head back and pumping in and out, thumb on her clit. She tossed the lube at him, and continued to play with herself, spreading the lube from the front to the back.

She crawled up to the head of the bed over him and turned around, on her knees.

House used a large amount of lube and positioned her so he could push into her ass. He reached to the front and pushed two long fingers into her cunt, then began rubbing her clit. She sighed as he slowly slid inside her, moving his fingers inside her at the same time.

"Fucking-a," he said, a hand on her back.

She twisted on his fingers, moaning and moving over his cock.

"Faster," he said, forehead on her back.

She complied.

He started panting and thrusting, moaning, calling her name and swearing.

"Fuck… yes… Trika! Goddamn it… yes!" he yelled as he came.

He pushed her forward and withdrew. He pulled off the condom and

tossed it in the trash.

Patrika was still on her knees in front of him.

"Lay down," he said, "on your back."

She did, then he moved between her legs and fastened his mouth to her cunt. It was her turn to almost buck off the bed.

"Fuck, Greg!"

He continued sucking at her clit and started thrusting his fingers inside her.

Patrika screamed as she came and he continued until she was a shaking mass of goo quivering under him on the bed.

"Shit… Greg… That was… intense."

He rolled over and laid next to her.

"Least I could do," he said, smiling, "Since you did a lot there."

"I just gave you head and let you… do that thing you've been talking about…"

"And it was fucking awesome," he sighed.

"It was alright," she smirked.

"Well, the after part was best for you."

"Yeah, could you do that everyday?"

"You going to make me talk to Wilson everyday?"

She looked at him sideways.

"I'm not sure how answering that will screw me over…"

"Only in a good way," he replied.

"Do we have to do-"

"Oh, my God, woman, say anal sex, butt fucking, ass pillaging, something!"

"-that thing that you want?"

He blew out his breath.

"For my birthday and Christmas?"

"After I see your birth certificate…" she said, smiling.

* * *

Eventually, Patrika had managed to become fairly good friends with Cuddy.

Cuddy was grateful for the effect Patrika seemed to be having on House and Patrika liked Cuddy's sense of humor. Especially when putting up with House.

They were out one night, having a drink, when Cuddy asked a very personal question.

"Well, Lisa, I don't know how to respond to that," Patrika said, with very little inflection.

"I shouldn't have asked, it was wrong-"

"I don't tie him up, or beat him. I'm an alpha female, but not the dominatrix type."

Cuddy blew out her breath.

"I just can't figure out how you keep him in line."

Patrika smiled.

"I don't."

Cuddy's eyes widened.

"But, he doesn't yell at you-"

"In front of anyone, taught him that lesson," Patrika put in.

"He's thoughtful, he doesn't steal your food-"

"Stabbed him with a fork."

Cuddy stopped.

"What?" Lisa asked.

"He went to take some food off my plate and I stabbed him with my fork. And as for the thoughtful, that's just House trying to get what House wants. If he doesn't behave in a certain way every once in a while, I lock it down."

Cuddy shook her head.

"That's refuse to have sex with him, if-"

"No, totally got that," Cuddy said.

Patrika took a long drink.

"Ask me."

Cuddy looked over her glass as she took a sip.

"I can't."

"But you want to know. You had that thing in college."

Cuddy downed her drink.

"Is he still good?"

"Are you any competition?"

Lisa smiled.

"And if I say yes, that this whole thing has been to lull you into telling me your secrets?"

"Are we going to keep asking each other questions?" Patrika said and started laughing, Cuddy joined her. "And to answer question number one; yes, he is good. But then, so am I. As for question two… I have no secrets. And I welcome healthy competition to mate."

They both burst out laughing.

"Another round?" Cuddy asked.

"Hell, yes."

* * *

"I'm having lunch with James this afternoon. He wants you to come."

House snorted.

"He said that?"

"Not in so many words…"

He planted his butt on the couch and drank his beer.

"Have a nice lunch. I hope he pays."

Patrika sat down next to him.

"I know you hate the melo-drama, unless it's General Hospital, but he has paid. He continues to pay. He punished you, you're punishing him. I get it, you hold a grudge."

House ignored her.

"You know, it's almost my birthday."

"Your birthday is June 11th. It's December."

"Halfway there," he said, smirking.

"Distract you with sex?" she said, hopefully.

He took a long swig.

"Maybe later. I've let you play that card a few times too often."

"But you like it," she said, standing up.

"Yeah, you're a good lay," he said, grabbing the remote.

Patrika shrugged.

"I do what I can. I'm just a simple woman," she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

He reached up and fondled her breasts.

"With such meager assets…" he murmured.

She kissed him.

"You, too."

* * *

"Stop flirting with me, James," Patrika laughed. "When is Lisa getting here?"

Then the food arrived. She smiled at the waitress and Wilson looked off.

"Uh… she called to say she couldn't make it."

Patrika cocked her head to the side and scrutinized him.

"Right…"

"Really," he said, pulling out his cell phone, "Give her a call."

"Okay," she said, grabbing the phone and dialing. "Lisa…"

He grabbed the phone from her and put it to his ear.

"The time?" he asked. "You can still call for that?"

"So, you never invited Lisa?"

"No."

"You wanted to be alone with me?" she continued, then took a bite of her sandwich.

"Yes."

"Though you are aware I am in some kind of relationship with Greg House, a guy whom you are trying to re-friend?"

She squirted some ketchup on her plate.

He squirmed.

"What? Did you want to sleep with yourself, but a tad more cruel?" she said, and continued to eat. He didn't touch a bite.

He continued to squirm.

"You want to make House angry? You thought I'd sleep with you?"

"Yes. And no."

Patrika blinked and shook her head.

"I don't even know you, James. We've had lunch 4 times, dinner once, that drink with House, and a couple of phone calls."

"Which is why I knew you wouldn't sleep with me."

"But, you want to make my life difficult by making House think we have or will?"

"I'm an asshole," Wilson sighed.

"Yes, you are."

"I'll get the check-"

Patrika put her hand up.

"I'm not done eating and you have some explaining to do."

He sat there silently.

"Okay, I'll start and you stop me when I say something that is not correct."

He nodded.

"You miss House. You want to talk to him, see him. He won't talk to you or see you. But if you piss on his territory, he might just come and chew you out, giving you the contact you desire. Am I right so far?"

"This is why I'm divorced," he said, taking a long drink of water.

"Sleeping with other women… Yeah, I get that."

He shook his head.

"Yes and no. Something happens or doesn't happen and I want a reaction. The big reaction is sleeping with someone else. And I always told them, the women I cheated on. Figured it out in therapy."

"And House was an attention machine, negative or otherwise. You whore."

He shrugged.

She took another bite of her sandwich.

"You could just do what you want," she said.

"Such as?"

"You tell me."

He shook his head.

"Go see him. Bother him at work. Eat his lunch. Go to his apartment, drink his beer. Piss him off without involving me… directly." She pulled out her keys. "I will deny it if you tell him, but you should go get a key made." She pulled House's key off the ring. "I'll sit here and eat my lunch."

"What?"

"Just go do it and get back in time to pay the bill."

Wilson took the key and left.

"Men are so strange," she said after he left.

* * *

Wilson did start showing up at PPTH, ostensibly to visit Cuddy or Cameron or anyone but House. But eventually, he started just going to House's office and bugging the shit out of him.

When House started ignoring him, he kicked it up and started going to House's apartment. He started calling Patrika in advance, after catching the two of them in… Well, doing it.

House tried to order him to leave. He threatened to call the cops. Though Wilson knew that if he did they'd be more likely to drag House off than himself.

He followed House to lunch, ate off his tray, went to his place and drank his beers.

House came home from work to find Wilson shit-faced on his couch.

"How the fuck did you get in?"

Wilson blinked and looked at him.

"Did you know you you're out of beer?" he said.

"Shit," House said, heading to the kitchen. There was a semi-perfect line of nine empty beer bottles sitting on the counter.

"You drank all the beer," he said, heading back into the living room.

"I said that, right?"

House tossed his bag on the floor.

"I'm calling you a cab."

"I'm not leaving," Wilson slurred.

"We'll see in about 15 minutes."

"What are you going to do? Man-handle me out? I'm falling down drunk and you're a gimp."

House took a deep breath.

"Again, how the hell did you get in here?

"I…" Wilson said, reaching into his pocket, "got a key." He showed House.

"Where did you- Patrika gave you a key."

"Nope. I took it."

"You're a horrible liar."

"Am not."

"And you're childish."

Wilson snorted.

"From the king of juvenile."

House looked at him.

"Juvenile is an awful big word for a drunk oncologist."

"Got a good vocabulary…"

"Riiiiiiiiight…"

Wilson took a deep breath and looked at House. All three of him.

"I want to be friends again. I'm tired of the assholes I hang out with."

House smiled.

"You tell Cuddy and the rest that?"

"Not them. The assholes at the other hospital. Morons. No sense of humor." He paused. "Patrika has a good sense of humor…"

House smiled.

"Yeah? She's pretty hot, too."

"Nice breasts, even though she's kind of short."

"So, my girl-friend has nice tits?"

"And ass. Round, like… like J. Lo or Beyonce or Kim Kardashian."

House blinked.

"You know who those women are?"

"They're in the men's magazines."

"Now that we've determined that she's hot, you can tell me when she gave you a key."

"Nope. I stole it."

"Ass," House sighed.

"So, what do I have to do to put up with your shit again?"

"Well, you could start with not drinking all my beer, you dimwit."

"I was… upset. I was drowning my sorrows."

House sighed.

"I didn't mean for her to come get me…" he said.

Wilson's eyes hardened.

"I know."

"And I was never sleeping with her."

Wilson sat up.

"I knew."

"Then what the hell… Wait, I know what happened. I'm a insensitive jack-ass and you needed more than I could give."

"Perspective, huh?" Wilson said.

"In a way. A year is a long time."

"It's a year tomorrow."

"Fuck," House said quietly.

"Yeah."

"Patrika is better with this stuff…"

"Just do the thing where you sit there and watch TV with me."

House looked at his friend, in pain and passing out on his couch.

He picked up the remote.

* * *

"Wilson wants to come back," Cuddy said to Patrika.

Patrika was sitting in Cuddy's office, drinking a bottle of water.

"That jerk! He said he wouldn't go after-"

"He's not asking for head of the department. He just wants to be back here."

"Oh, sorry for flying off the handle."

Cuddy shrugged.

"I could have phrased it better."

"So, you want me to agree to hiring him? Done."

"I was going to say, could you be co- heads of the department?"

"Will my pay go down?"

"No."

"Done. House needs his boat rocked a little more."

Cuddy smiled wickedly.

"I thought that might be part of your decision making process."

"So, when shall I expect him?"

"He's giving them 6 weeks notice, then he'll be back."

"Are you going to tell House?"

"What do you think?" Cuddy replied.

"Me, neither."

* * *

"We haven't had sex in 2 weeks," Patrika said, walking into House's apartment.

She saw Wilson and House sitting on the couch.

It was a month after Wilson came back.

'Shit,' she thought.

"Hi, James."

"Hello, Patrika."

"Greg…"

"Sorry 'bout the lack of pleasuring you-"

"But your bromance is back on. I got it." She turned to Wilson. "You have to stay home tomorrow night."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Nice. I could get used to that."

"Get over it now," House yelled as she went into the bedroom.

"Sure thing, sexy," she yelled back.

"She's fun," Wilson said.

"She beats me at checkers. She's lame," House replied.

"I heard that," Patrika said as she came back into the living room in her 'after work clothes', long shorts and a tank top.

"Good, we don't have to check your hearing this year."

"But I can still get that pelvic, right?" she said and laughed as she sat down in the chair opposite them.

Wilson stood.

"I should go," he said.

"I was just making a joke, James. Don't freak out."

"Well, you said you haven't…"

"Done it in two weeks? That's not your fault. It's his. He's so happy you're back he wants to spend every minute with you. Have you been to a strip club yet?"

"What do you mean, 'yet'?" House said, wickedly.

"Come sit next to him, at least," Wilson said, relaxing a bit.

"So he can grope me in front of you and try to assert his dominance? Thanks, but no, I'm just going to sit here and wait for the pizza to arrive."

"You ordered-" House started.

"Pepperoni and pineapple," she cut him off.

"Hork," he said, disgusted. "Why in God's name would you put fruit on a pizza?"

"Because it's tasty?" she ventured.

"No," House said, eyes back on the TV.

Wilson sat back down.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

"I'm willing to go halfsies," she said, getting comfortable, flinging a leg over the side of the chair.

"Don't fall for that, she says she'll pay you back and then she'll take her top off and make you forget she owes you money."

"I thought that only worked on you, Greg?"

"That works on any straight man with a pulse, my dear," House replied.

She stood up and put a finger on Wilson's wrist.

"Got it. So, when the delivery guy shows up, I just whip my top off and Wilson pays," she said, sitting back down, laughing.

"Delivery guy might give it to you for free," House said, flipping channels.

"I like how you're not concerned about her taking her clothes off for other men," Wilson put in.

"I don't think she'll do it anyway," House said to his friend.

"You want to put money on it?" Patrika asked.

"A hundred bucks?"

"For these? A hundred each."

"Fine. But you won't do it."

House looked at Wilson.

"I'm staying out of this."

When the bell went, and she opened the door and pulled her tank top off.

The delivery guy stood there in shock, holding out the pizza.

"How much?" she asked.

"Um, nothing', lady," he said. "Nice rack."

She thanked him, closed the door and walked into the kitchen. She came out with two plates and her top back on. She handed a plate to Wilson and sat down.

"I think I should get extra for not having to pay," she said after taking a bite. "I wonder how many times I can get away with that?"

"Just the once, I think," House said irritably.

"You're just mad because you owe me 200 bucks now."

"It should be a 200 credit on all the dinners I've bought…"

"You buy me food so that I'll give you the sweet, sweet lovin' later," she said.

"I wish that worked for me," Wilson said.

"What? That you buy her dinner and she sleeps with you?"

Wilson looked at Patrika.

"I've got a few lunches under my belt. What do you say?" he asked her, grinning.

"Truly funny," House grumbled.

"I'll need two more lunches and a dinner. And then maybe," she said.

House rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Co-head sounds dirty," Patrika said, walking into Wilson's office.

"A little. And thanks for letting me have this office back, you didn't have to," he said, putting his certificates and degrees back up on the wall.

"I'm in hiding. No more nooners for Greg until he finds my new office."

Wilson smiled.

"Should be a merry chase."

"For a while. Eventually he'll find someone who will give up the location for the right price."

"And he'll get the money from me to pay them," Wilson smirked.

"Oh, just tell him to piss off when he comes calling for cash."

"On my list," Wilson said, turning to look at her. "About the flirting and nakedness…"

Patrika sat in front of Wilson's desk.

"Do you really want to sleep with me?" she asked bluntly.

Wilson's jaw dropped.

"In more than the 'I'm a nominally attractive woman with nice breasts' way?"

"You are straight forward."

"It's one of my more charming qualities…"

Wilson sat behind his desk.

"You are… beautiful…"

"Don't sound so thrilled."

He smiled.

"I feel awkward saying you're attractive and I wouldn't mind sleeping with you."

"But you just said it. Good job!" she said, smiling.

"House would suggest a threesome."

"He's a freak like that," she continued to smile.

"He talks, you know…"

She smiled sweetly.

"Really?"

He looked at her a minute.

"No, not really."

"But it was a good bluff. You are a naughty man…"

Wilson smiled.

"I got the idea when you said the thing about co-head."

Patrika laughed.

* * *

Patrika opened the door to House's apartment and found it dark. She switched the light by the door on and set her purse on the floor.

"Greg?"

There was no answer.

She checked in every room. There was no sign of him. She called Wilson, they were not together. She called his office, again, no House. His pager, his cell, nothing.

She called Wilson back and asked him what bar Greg would go to by himself.

After hanging up, she grabbed her purse and headed down the block.

"So, are you going to get stinking drunk every time you're happy?" Patrika said, sitting down next to House at the bar. "Just so I know."

"Do people usually get drunk when they're happy?" he asked, slurring ever so slightly.

"I don't know about 'people', but I know you like to sabotage your own happiness."

"What sabotage?" he asked.

"Well… for starters, we haven't had sex in a month, you spend more time with Wilson and work than me, you stay out drinking more and more…"

She took a deep breath.

"But I don't care."

He looked at her, surprised and drunk.

"This is the only way you're passive. You want to see how far you can push me before I go away. And that's fine, you have to occasionally push the boundaries for security, good. But, I'd prefer it you just photo-shopped some more pictures or switched my hot cocoa with laxative, something pro-active."

"You think you have me all figured out. You'll just sit back and I'll fall into line…" he said and signaled the bartender.

The tall man walked over and said, "Sorry, buddy, cutting you off."

"What?! Why!?" House demanded.

"Look, drunkie, if the lady hadn't showed up, I'd have got you a cab and sent you out of here by now." He looked at Patrika. "You takin' him home?"

"That's the plan," she replied.

"I don't want to be fucking fixed," House said, turning to Patrika.

"I have no interest in 'fixing' you," she said, making the little air quotes.

"I'm not a nice guy…"

"BFD, I'm not a nice woman. I'm just slightly less anti-social than you. Now get your drunk ass up and stumble to the car."

He stood, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Good thing I'm so fucking hot and such a wild man in bed."

Patrika walked in front of him, partially to get the door, partially to let him see the ass swing.

"You're only attractive when you smile, which is barely ever and… you're okay in bed," she said walking out and holding the door open.

"That's not what you were screaming-"

"-a month ago?" she cut in.

"I will be sober soon enough and you will suffer for your impudence."

"I certainly hope so."

* * *

House woke up to Wilson and Patrika in chairs at the end of his bed.

"Stay back or it might rear up and attack," Wilson said, sipping his coffee.

Patrika shook her head.

"I don't doubt it. If I woke up looking like that, I would just run towards the nearest living thing and kill it," she said, smiling wickedly.

"What the hell are you two doing?" House demanded, not quite shouting.

"You want some water, honey? You dehydrated?" Patrika asked.

Wilson grinned.

"I repeat-"

"We're just getting to know each other better. I came over to do the breakfast thing, you know, the one we planned yesterday, and you were still comatose."

"We didn't want to talk about you unless you were in the room," Patrika said, "So, we came in here."

"Cute," House said, sitting up on the side of the bed.

"Okay, I don't need to see this part," Wilson said, getting up.

"I'm clothed," House said, standing up.

"Yup, he was too heavy to get completely naked," Patrika said, not moving.

"I still need more coffee, and I'm sure House will appreciate some once he drops a couple friends off at the pool," Wilson said, grimacing.

"An image I can live with out," Patrika said, standing, "I'm with you."

House joined them in the kitchen a little later.

"Colon cleansed?" Patrika asked cheerfully.

House turned to Wilson.

"This is why I don't like letting a woman live with me. Can't even take a shit with out a comment."

"Did you use the spray? Cause if you didn't, I'm calling the cleaning lady," she continued, pouring House a cup of coffee.

House gave her the 'you're so fucking funny' look, took the coffee and retreated to the couch.

"You don't mind this?" Wilson asked her.

"What?"

"The surly, brusque, aggravating-"

"Don't forget smelly," House called from the living room.

Wilson just looked at Patrika.

"I'd like to say I have some special experience or unending patience or something sweet like that, but it's just not true. I get irritated with him and I take off for a while, then I want him more than I want to be angry, so I come back.

"Yeah, he gives me shit, but… I don't know… It doesn't affect me."

"What about that thing about not talking about me unless I was in the room?" House called.

"You can hear us. Quit whining," Patrika said, adding some honey to her tea.

"Normal people… Shit, that didn't start out right-"

"We're not normal people, James. I don't need constant reminders that he gives a shit, and big showy emotional declarations. It makes me uncomfortable. I like Greg the way he is, mostly. And like I said, when he pisses me off enough, usually because he's too comfortable, I just start sleeping at home. Then he misses me and my sweet ass and I get the call."

"I miss the head, not the ass so much," House said.

"And he makes me laugh. We have fun kicking each other in the ass."

"I get it," Wilson said. "It's kind of scary, but I get it."

"She tell you that she's you?" House said, "But with much better tits and a vagina, and prettier?"

Patrika just shrugged.

"If you were a decent looking chick, James, I wouldn't stand a chance," Patrika said, smiling at the other man.

"With big tits," House said, holding up his coffee cup.


End file.
